


bringing in strays

by ghoststoriesandothershit (orphan_account)



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Baking, F/M, Family Bonding, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Soft Chara, and ESPECIALLY asriel, or i mean if ur in the "chara's the epitome of evil" crowd, sad foreshadowing, so does asgore, toriel loves them though, u could read it as a seven year old really successfully pretending to be cute
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-23
Updated: 2017-04-23
Packaged: 2018-10-22 21:58:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10705971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/ghoststoriesandothershit
Summary: Your name is Toriel Dreemurr. Queen of monsters, brains behind the throne, mother and wife.You didn't intend to gain another child so soon, but the world had other ideas for you.





	bringing in strays

You put on a brave face in front of Asgore, insisted the child was harmless, convinced him they deserved a night of shelter, but in all honesty, you were scared too. They were a child, yes, small and bruised and frightened-looking, but they were a human as well and their fear could be a danger to everyone- you, your husband, your sweet, young child who was so excited to have a new playmate. You were terrified.

But you were also a mother, and currently you had a skinny, wounded child standing in your kitchen, covered in weeks' worth of dirt and inhaling a slice of chocolate cake like it was their last meal on earth. So you waited until they finished their cake and knelt down, slow, as they watched you with cautious eyes. You held out your hand.

"Chara," you said softly (for that was their name, what they had gasped out to Asriel before fainting in the middle of their introductions.) "Your clothes are very muddy. And... you look like you could use a rest. After a long day, I am very fond of going to the bathhouses for a long soak."

"I don't want to go to the bathhouses," they whispered, wrapping their arms around theirself and looking even smaller.

"Oh, you wouldn't have to!" You say quickly, but still gently, not wanting to startle them. "I can heat up a tub for you right here. But I wanted to check that it is something you would find relaxing?"

They remain still for a few moments, watching your face and reminding you a little of a dog waiting for an order. Slowly, they nod their head and you smile.

"Would you like me to help you undress?" You ask, and they shake their head furiously. "That is perfectly fine, Chara. I'll just be over here heating the tub, alright?" They nod again and you smile at them, turning away to fill the large bucket on the floor with water, setting it down again and placing your hands on either side to push warm waves of magic into it.

After a moment, you feel a tugging on your sleeve, and you look down to find a shivering child who's even dirtier than you first thought. Not only that, but they're covered in scars- not the nasty wounds from the fall that you'd healed for them earlier, but deep, white wounds, cruel and straight and intentional, and running all the way up their arms and legs.

Chara has their arms wrapped around theirself, trying not to hide their intimate areas but rather as much of the wounds as they can. You feel your heart break a little, watching them angle their arm so the scars slip out of view.

And you thought this child was a danger to anyone but themself?

"Right," you say softly, feeling like you're suspended in time, a hole in your chest, a hollow questioning of who could do that, who could break down a child so much they sought relief through a knife to their limbs. Your mind flickers to the kitchen knives, the gardening tools lying around, and you make a note to blunt them down. "You're welcome to get in now."

They clamber in ungracefully, all long gawky limbs and awkward spindly joints, before settling down with a pleased sigh. Their eyes flutter shut and the sight pulls a smile to your face.

"May I wash your back?" you ask after letting them rest for a few minutes, and their nod seems a little less jerky now, a little less nervous.

You take a cloth and warm it in the water before rubbing a bar of soap against it. As you kneel behind them they flinch, before reaching up politely and lifting their hair away from the nape of their neck. You murmur a word of thanks before looking critically over the rough, dull appearance of their hair.

"Would you like me to wash your hair as well, my child?" You ask.

"Yes please."

You smile, soaping up their shoulders. "My, what lovely manners you have," you comment, scrubbing them down before rinsing the suds off. "I always encourage Asriel to try and be a little politer to the people around him, but he's so impatient he always forgets. Still, the important part is that he's a kind and caring boy." You're careful with your words, keeping your tone soft. It's important to make sure children get the proper amount of praise, and it's good to encourage healthy etiquette, but you want them to know that there will be no consequences for small mistakes. That you will make sure nobody hurts them.

Somehow, this coaxes a giggle out of them, and you're quick to compliment that, too. "And a lovely laugh to match!"

They giggle a little more before thanking you. You continue in silence for a while, soaping them up and washing them down, replacing the water a few times when it grows muddy. After about the fifth wash, the water's milky instead of dark, so you help them out. They pause, looking a little lost as you wrap them in a big, fluffy towel. You smile at them gently, before leading them over to the sink. "I thought it might be nicer to wash your hair over here, instead of in the bath," you explain, and their confusion seems to clear up a little.

Obediently, they sit in the chair you provide and lean back against the sink, letting the ends of their hair trail in the water. Slowly, you comb wet fingers through it, trying your best not to let your claws catch in the tangles.

Chara sits completely still, not even flinching when you inevitably snag on a knot.

"What flavor of shampoo would you like me to use, my child?" You ask. Standing by their side like this, you can see their eyes flicker open, the way they look surprised at the way you speak to them.

"There are flavors?"

You hum, nodding and smiling down at them, feeling... fond. Protective. "That's right. I use vanilla-honey. Asgore uses lemon-honey. Asriel uses cinnamon. Of course, we have others, too, for guests." You gesture to the bottles scattered over the counter. "We also have peppermint, caramel, strawberry, apple-"

"That one," Chara interrupts, eyes lit up, before they catch themselves and shrink down. "I'm- oh- Sorry-" They breathe in shakily before speaking again. "I mean... I'd like the apple, please." They look up at you with wide eyes, trembling a little, and your heart clenches.

"Of course, little one," you tell them gently. The bottle's small and green, a grinning crocodile monster emblazoned on the front of it. Most of the shampoos are in tester bottles, stored for when your friends stay, but this bottle's bigger. It's Gerson's, from back at the end of the war, when he had hair to wash, and probably a little out of date. There's even some dust on it, but when you uncap it and spill some onto your palm, the air fills with the smell of apples and Chara seems to relax.

"Thank you," the murmur, and you don't really understand why they're thanking you, but it makes you just a little more protective, and you smile as you work the tangles out of their hair.

"It is no problem at all, my child."

 

 

 

You wake a few months later and stretch, yawning, before getting out of bed and padding over to pull on your dressing gown and slippers. You sneak out to check up on your family, just as you do every morning before starting breakfast. You check in on your husband, first, and watch him sprawled over his bed, chest heaving as he snores. He's been working so hard lately, either pacing up and down in Gaster's lab or walking all around the underground, or forcing himself to spend some time with the children in the garden so he can watch Chara's face light up as their buttercups bloom, and rescue Asriel when he can't climb down from the trees. You blow him a kiss before closing the door behind you, letting him rest.

Next you head to your children's room, quietly pushing the door open to check all is well- but it isn't. Asriel's lying in bed much like his father does, all sprawled limbs and snores and drool, and at any other time you'd smile softly, heart filled with love, but you're too busy being filled with panic, because  _Chara isn't there._

You force yourself to calm, quickly slipping out, not wanting to disturb Asriel, and rush out to check the garden. They aren't there, and your stomach tightens but you force yourself to rush back and check the house first before calling a search party. You check both their room and Asgore's once more, before hurrying into the living room-

And there they are.

They don't notice you at first, face scrunched up in concentration as they struggle with a tray stacked full of teapots and tea cups and a milk jug, and you stay still, careful not to startle them. You only speak once the tray is safely on the bed, which is a good thing because they jump like you knew they would, eyes flicking to the table nervously to check it's all okay.

"My child, what's all this?"

Chara bites their lip and looks down as you make your way over to them. "Wanted to make breakfast."

You're a little lost for words as you look over the -very neatly decorated- table. "All by yourself? Chara, dearest, you know you could have asked for help-"

"I didn't want to!" They say fiercely, cheeks puffed up and pink, looking every inch as determined and hopeful as they had defending Asriel from a Migosp last week. They look down, shrinking back into theirself. "I just... I wanted to say thank you. You always work so hard, and I- I just-"

You kneel in front of them and cup their face in your paw, watching lovingly as their eyes dance around you guiltily. "Do you feel like you need to work to stay, Chara?"They remain silent, but their cheeks give them away as they always do. It's a little fascinating to you- most monsters don't blush, but whenever Chara insists they're not too cold or not too hot their face gives them away, as it does when they're feeling sheepish or shy or nervous. "Chara," you say gently, watching as they close their eyes and lean into your touch. "You are wanted here. No matter what. We're not giving you away, or leaving you behind, or sending you out. We'd all miss you so much if you left. More than you can imagine, my dear child."

"I know," Chara whispers, biting their lip and blinking back tears. "I just- I can't fight like Azzy and I can't heal like you, and M-Mr Dreemurr is always so  _nice_ but I know that if I- if I were better I could help you all- I could find a way out, but I'm not, I'm just..." They breathe in what sounds a lot like a sniff, "I can't even use the stove so I had to make toast."

"Oh, Chara," you murmur, pulling them into a close hug, letting yourself cry for the both of you. "Oh, child. You do not need to grow up so fast. You can learn to help. Your presence is making everyone so hopeful- the underground all believe in you, but you're still a child. You have a long time until you need to be an angel." You hold them close to you for what feels like hours before they sniffle and pull back.

"Can you help me make porridge?" They ask, and you smile down at them gently.

"I can, and I will, but your toast looks so good that I fear it wouldn't be needed." This coaxes a smile from them and you press a kiss to their forehead. "Now, shall I help you carry out the condiments and heat everything up again?"

 

And that's how the rest of your family find you, placing everything on your nicest tablecloth and helping Chara make personalized napkins for everyone. Asriel runs in crying his little heart out, dragging a half-asleep but equally worried Asgore behind him.

"Mom, mom," he gasps between tears. "Chara's-" and then he spots them, and bowls them over with a hug while screaming wildly.

Gorey winces at the sound and makes his way over to you, kissing your cheek before looking fondly down at the children. "Oh, good," he yawns. "I wasn't looking forward to a search this early in the morning." You swat his arm with a fond smile, and he grins back apologetically. "Oh, don't act like that, Tori. You know we'd have found them." He leans down to scoop up the children, one in each arm. "We'll always find them, right, Asriel?"

"Right!" Asriel crows, rubbing his cheek against Chara's and making them giggle. "I was so worried! Why weren't you in bed! If you woke up you should have woken me up as well, I wouldn't have minded!"

"Yes, you would have," you mumble, and Chara laughs again.

"I was making a surprise," they say happily.

Asgore hums, looking down at them fondly. "Oh? This early in the morning? It must be pretty special."

"Chara made dinner," you inform them proudly.

"Golly," Asgore smiles. "How exciting."

Asriel starts to bounce in his father's arms until he slips out and rushes to the table. "Wow! I bet it's way better than mom's cooking."

"Asriel Dreemurr!" You scold him, but he only giggles and sits down. Chara hides their face in Asgore's chest, and you quickly reach out to check that they're alright. "Chara...?"

They pull back slowly, smiling wide and bright up at you. "I'm just... happy."

Asgore smiles and lifts them up, sitting them down at the head of the table in his usual spot. "What a funny coincidence- so am I! Now, shall we tuck into this wonderful meal?"

"It's just toast," Chara says softly, and you shake your head as you sit down.

"Toast and tea," you remind them with a smile.

"And jam!" Asriel chimes in behind a mouthful of bread.

"And family," Asgore finishes, leaning over to nuzzle you.

"Eugh, dad!" Asriel whines, and Chara joins in the groaning.

 

In the end the toast is a little burnt, the tea gets cold rather quickly, Chara's sneaked in a bowl of chocolate "for garnishing" and you look the other way as they gleefully crunch it up with their toast. Asgore accidentally burns himself heating his tea up again, Asriel drinks too fast and gets hiccups, which Chara then teases him about, which dissolves into them laughing and screaming as they race around the kitchen, leaving you an enormous mess to clean up and a dazed husband.

You're still frightened, of the future, of losing this, of making sure Asgore doesn't work himself to death, of the stain slowly sinking into the rug by the fire, but you're still a mother. 

Your love is fierce, and gentle, and it leads you to smile even as you get up and head out to stop your children from trampling all over your poor flowerbeds.


End file.
